Nesting Song Sparrows

It is natural for one of my garden fence posts to be topped by a Song Sparrow.  Through most of the spring and summer, a Song Sparrow uses this perch to sing his song of ownership over a prime nesting territory.  The bounds of that territory may match the garden fence, because the nests are mostly to be found somewhere in the garden.

This juniper seems to be the preferred location of the first nest of the season.  That’s probably because this shrub is the best source of cover early in the year.  Had it not been for the sparrows, I would have removed the juniper long ago.  I do trim it back severely each year so it doesn’t take up too much gardening space.

The pruning tends to make the branches more dense.  I can hear when a nest is active, but finding the nest without disturbing it is nearly impossible.

It’s after the fact that I discover the nest locations.  This shot is from the same angle as the last.  I just pulled up the concealing branch. 

The nests always seem to be sandwiched tightly between two branches, with the top branch making a low ceiling over the nest.  This makes the nest quite well hidden and difficult for most predators to approach.

Sometimes the birds will choose a location other than the juniper for their second nesting attempt.  Severe downdraughts from a powerful thunderstorm laid over a portion of this stand of Ashy Sunflowers.  The result was a tangle of horizontal stems close to the ground.

A couple weeks after the storm, I was trimming back some of the fallen plants to keep them from interfering with corn growing in a neighboring bed.  I stopped my work when I noticed a wad of grass seemingly stuffed between the stalks.  The grass should not have been there.

The grass I had seen was part of a Song Sparrow nest.  A couple of the stalks I had already cut had formed part of the roof over the nest, so the nest was more exposed than intended.  I bent a couple of fresh stalks over the nest and wove them in with the others in an attempt to repair the damage I had done.  Then I left the area alone for a few days and hoped that the sparrows would accept my alteration of their original design.

Apparently I was successful.  When next I checked, young birds were growing nicely.  If there was a problem, it was being caused by the wind blown plants attempting to return to a more upright position.  The shifting plant stalks had moved the nest about 30 degrees off level.  The nestlings seemed comfortable in their slanted home and were old enough to adjust their positions to match the new attitude.  Song Sparrow nestlings leave the nest about ten days after hatching, so these only had a few more days left in the nest anyhow.

One day I came out and heard young birds calling from the nearby field.  I checked the nest and it was empty. 

Although I could clearly hear the young birds calling for their meals, they stayed out of sight down in the grass.  The adult birds were seen busily searching for insects to deliver to their offspring.  It’s hard to tell how many sparrows have been produced from my vegetable garden.  I am assuming that it is the same male that comes back each year to this particular spot.  I once read of a male Song Sparrow that returned to the same nesting area 16 years in a row.  I hope my bird can match that longevity.

Song Sparrows

Apparently a portion of my garden fence runs through the edge of a territory claimed by a pair of Song Sparrows.  Both birds became agitated when I stopped in their territory to splice together two rolls of fence wire.  This one stayed close and chastised me with a continuous series of chip notes.

Fortunately, I was surrounded by suitable perches from which the sparrow could comfortably scold.  A favorite seemed to be a tangle of Concord grape vines growing behind the garden.  I suppose this site offered just a bit more security in the face of a potential threat.

Although the Song Sparrow never stopped announcing my presence, he seemed most intent on collecting small insects.  He found several in the grape vines, which might have been a stronger reason for spending so much time in their tangle.

From more open perches, frequent trips to the ground were made to collect what he spotted from his perch.  The brown leaves shriveled on the vine are the result of our recent frosts.

The second Song Sparrow stayed farther out in the field.  I’m guessing there’s a nest with young somewhere in the vicinity. 

He didn’t seem to mind the fact that the fence was shaking because of my splicing activities.  I wonder if this is a way of asserting claim over a new structure in his territory.

It looks like his patience has worn thin and he’s stomping his foot to emphasize his command that I finish my work and move on.  I hate to tell him that I’ve been stomped by some pretty forceful supervisors, but they’ve never been able to change my work style.

Bonus Shot:  I’ve mentioned before that I see faces in just about every photo.  I found this image in the grape leaves and call it A Man and His Cat.

A Camera Critters submission.

Song At the Window

I’ve been lucky each year to have a pair of Song Sparrows claim the landscaping in front of our house as their nesting territory. The song is something that I enjoy hearing as I come and go. When I’m distracted, the song becomes part of the background sounds and I don’t consciously hear it, but I would certainly miss it if it disappeared. The song isn’t always noticeable in the house, so it was quite a surprise when it sounded like the bird was right in the room with me.

I found the sparrow perched on the window sill and giving me my own private serenade. He didn’t seem aware of my presence on the other side of the glass. I hadn’t seen him act this way before, but I thought I knew what was going on.

It didn’t take long for the bird to verify my suspicions. First came the tapping on the glass, then the hopping back and forth along the window and finally, the fluttering against the glass. The territorial male Song Sparrow was trying to chase away its reflection.

I’ve experienced this type of behavior from Robins and Cardinals, sometimes with window reflections, but mostly with the car mirror. This is the first time I’ve had this happen with a Song Sparrow.

The attack against the window is not continuous. The sparrow still moves around his territory, calling from various established perches. The roughly oval shaped route seems to go window - roof – bush – bush – electric wire – roof – bush – bush and then start again at the window. I hate to see him wasting all of this energy fighting with himself. If he keeps this up, I’ll cover the window to block the reflection.

The juniper at the corner of the house is the usual site for a nest. I normally find the old nest during the winter and clean it out of the way. There have been years when the new nest was constructed in the same location as the previous year. If there’s a nest in there this year, I’ll be able to tell soon after the eggs hatch. Young Song Sparrows can be quite noisy when being fed and it’s easy to hear their peeping while I’m sitting on the porch.

Perched on the roof above the window, the Song Sparrow declares his claim on this territory. I’ve read of males maintaining the same territory for several years, so maybe this fellow has been here before. I hope to always enjoy Song Sparrows residing just outside my front door.

Note: I was trying to think of the best way to cover the window when I suddenly realized that I had a package of screens in the garage that were made to fit on the outside of these windows. I only use the screens on a couple of our windows, because they cannot be quickly removed. I’m the type of person who may suddenly throw the window open and interact with something outside. This is hard to do when blocked by a screen. However, the screens are perfect for keeping a small bird from seeing his reflection in the glass, so this window now has a screen attached. I hope the sparrow doesn’t find any of the other windows.